


Intangible Goods

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Series: All the Things Money Can't Buy [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Timestamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 23:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12376509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: And a few things that happened after.





	Intangible Goods

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno, I just needed to write some Shiro and Keith fluff in timestamp form.

**Three Days**

Keith can't say he's really a fan of working the third shift, but it's a lot more tolerable when it's the only thing he's doing, especially now that he's started catching up on his sleep. Doesn't hurt that the paycheck is respectable, either. With any luck, he can put enough money back now to make it a little easier to get by come the fall semester. Not that he plans on working at the warehouse once his stint in Dr. Alforsson's lab starts up week after next—well, not full time, anyway. A couple shifts a week, though, that would still make a difference…

Keith is so busy turning the possibilities over on the walk from the bus stop home that it takes him much longer than it should to realize that he knows the car that's parked outside his building. Knows the driver, too—it's Shiro, leaning against the driver's side door, holding a travel mug and watching him approach. The morning sunlight casts everything in a somewhat rosy glow, but if Keith isn't mistaken, Shiro's flushing. 

Huh. 

Either Shiro will explain what's going on or he won't. It's been a long night and he's not up for puzzling it out himself. Keith shrugs it aside and ambles over to join him, leaning against the car next to him. "Hey. This is a surprise."

Yep. Shiro's definitely red. "Uh. Yeah. That was… I guess that was the idea." He fidgets with the travel mug, sneaking glances at Keith and then looking away just as quickly. "I know you just got off work. I thought… maybe I could take you out for breakfast?" 

So that explains that. "More like dinner for me," Keith points out, since his previous plan was to heat up some leftovers and then go to sleep, which pretty much means that whatever meal he eats now is his dinner. "But okay, sure. Nothing fancy, though, I'm gross." Warehouse work is warehouse work, after all. Keith is in no way suitable for one of Shiro's fancy restaurants right now.

"You're not gross—" Shiro stops and gives him a proper look. "Well. You, uh. Obviously just got off work."

"Sure did," Keith agrees, amused. "So nothing fancy, okay?"

Shiro smiles then. "I wasn't planning on fancy, anyway." 

"That's fine, then." Keith pushes away from the car's door and stretches his back; he may be sweaty and gross from work, but that doesn't seem to stop Shiro from watching him. Keith takes advantage of his distraction and plucks the travel mug from his hand. He has it halfway to his mouth before he stops. "Wait. Did you brew this?"

"I did, yes." 

Keith shivers at his near escape and hands it back to him. "Never mind."

"Your loss." Shiro takes a drink. "So, you ready to go get something to eat, or do you want to stop off first?"

"Nah, I'm good—no, wait." Actually, there is something he wants to do first. Keith reaches over to Shiro and pulls him down for a kiss. "Okay, now I'm ready." He steps back and grins. "Your coffee tastes much better on you, just for the record."

Shiro goes red again, and Keith laughs all the way around the car and into the passenger seat.

 

 

**Three Weeks**

Dr. Alforsson's grad students take Keith's presence with more grace than Keith would have expected them to, given that he's an undergrad and all. But then, his presence means that they can fob the most boring parts of the lab work on him—the cleaning, the tedious data entry, maintaining the supply closet—which seems fair enough to him. They're not mean about it or anything, and someone has to do it. He's still learning (and getting paid to do it), so Keith is willing to call it good.

It's also a lot more relaxed than he'd expected it to be—Ashanti rolls in at ten on Wednesday in the first week, still yawning, and Dr. Alforsson (he still can't make himself call her Allura and does his best to avoid calling her anything at all) hardly blinks an eye. "Late night?" she asks.

Ashanti grins. "Studying for quals," she says. 

Dr. Alforsson and Omar both nod like that explains everything. It probably does, for them, since they go back to work. 

"Qualifying exams," Ashanti tells Keith later, in an undertone. "It's a grad school hazing ritual. So just know that you've got that to look forward to."

"Oh, goodie. Can't wait," Keith says, since grad school is one of those things that he's got classified squarely in the Worry About It Later category. Later is coming on fast, that's for sure, but it's not here yet.

But with Ashanti's example, Keith feels brave enough to approach Dr. Alforsson about adjusting his hours back a little on Mondays and Thursdays. "It'll make it easier if I have some extra time between getting off shift and coming in here."

Dr. Alforsson raises her eyebrows. "You're still working there?"

Keith shrugs. "Never hurts to have a little extra money coming in." 

It feels like she keeps her eyes on him for a beat too long before she inclines her head. "I suppose that's true enough. As long as you get your forty hours in, it's fine by me." 

So that's that. Pulling back-to-back shifts isn't going to be a lot of fun, but if he arranges it so that Mondays and Thursdays are when he does the mindless, repetitive stuff in the lab, the fatigue shouldn't affect his performance. The prospect of seeing his checking account balance climb makes it all worthwhile.

It's the Friday afternoon when it happens. They're all a little relaxed with the prospect of the three-day weekend ahead of them, and Omar and Ashanti are bantering back and forth about their plans for the weekend. Ashanti's boasting about her plans to study for quals, and Omar is insisting that she should at least plan to sleep for some of the weekend—"It's a holiday, after all!"

"I'll sleep after I get tenure," she retorts. "Hey, Keith, you're still young and fancy-free. What are you going to do with your weekend?"

Keith doesn't bother looking up from his filing. "We've got dinner plans, but nothing else."

"Wait a minute, _we_?" It's only when he hears how delighted Omar sounds that Keith realizes he's made a tactical error. "Who's _we_ , grasshopper?"

"Um." He's made a couple tactical errors, actually, because this is the first time it's occurred to him that maybe he and Shiro should have nailed down what they are, exactly. "My, uh, boyfriend, I guess." 

Omar blinks a couple of times, but recovers fast, so Keith gives him credit for it. "How come this is the first time we're hearing about him?"

Ashanti rolls her eyes. "Maybe it's because Keith is so talkative?" She smiles at Keith, gentle about it. "Don't mind Omar, he's the biggest busybody in the whole program."

"I already know everything about everyone else," Omar points out. "Keith is an unknown quantity. What's his name?"

Oh, Omar's talking to him. "Uh. Shiro?"

Too late, Keith remembers that Dr. Alforsson is on the other side of the bench, ostensibly doing a peer review on an article manuscript. He shoots a glance her way, panicked, and catches her looking back, mouth curved in the smallest of smiles. Yeah, she definitely heard that. 

She turns the page she's reading over and says, mild, "If I might remind you that the weekend isn't here yet?"

Ashanti sighs. "Yes, boss," she says, and they all get back to work. 

Keith tries to hope that maybe Dr. Alforsson is going to let the whole thing go past unremarked, but he can't really bring himself to it. That's probably for the best, since she turns up at his elbow at the end of the day, after Omar and Ashanti have gone. "Do give my regards to Shiro when you see him," she says. "Tell him I'm not going to take no for an answer next time I ask him to get coffee."

"I'll, uh. I'll do that, ma'am," Keith says. 

She smiles at him then, startling him with how warm it is. "I thought he'd seemed happier lately, you know. I'm glad it wasn't wishful thinking on my part. Have a good weekend, Mr. Kogane."

"You too," Keith says, stunned. 

Later, Keith takes a breath and says, "So, uh, I guess you should know that, uh, Dr. Alforsson knows about us. I, uh, may have called you my boyfriend in front of her."

Shiro's chest rises and falls under his cheek on his sigh. "Oh, thank God. Now I can stop making excuses for not meeting her for coffee."

Keith blinks, but no, rewinding and reviewing that doesn't make it make any more sense. He lifts his head so he can look at Shiro. "What?"

"Well… it's Allura," Shiro says, apologetic. "She's really good at getting people to tell her things. And by people I mean me. And, well, she _is_ going to direct your capstone, so I thought I'd better steer clear of her until you decided how you wanted to handle that."

Keith squints at him. "Just how long have you been avoiding her?"

"Um… is it still May?" Shiro isn't quite meeting his eyes. "About three months…?"

Since March, then. Keith bangs his head against Shiro's shoulder, since it's there and satisfyingly solid. "You should have said something."

Shiro ruffles his hair. "Didn't want to push you into anything uncomfortable."

"You should have said something," Keith repeats, though he knows perfectly well that it's going in one of Shiro's ears and out the other. He lifts his head again. "Anyway. She knows now. And she's going to drag you out to coffee pretty soon, she said to tell you." A thought occurs to him. "You aren't going to tell her _how_ we met, are you?"

A look of horror crosses Shiro's face. "God, no. I think _we met online_ is good enough, don't you?"

"Works for me," Keith says. It's even true, so he relaxes and makes himself comfortable against Shiro's chest again. 

After a moment, Shiro begins petting his hair. "So… you called me your boyfriend, huh?"

Keith knows that tone of voice; if he were to raise his head and look, he'd see _that_ smile on Shiro's face, the one that's soft and amazed. He clears his throat. "Well. You are, aren't you?"

Shiro's chest rises and falls again on the way he sighs. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am."

 

 

**Two Months**

Something is up with Shiro, has been for a solid week and a half, because he's been nervy and distracted by something that has him fidgeting and giving Keith quick, searching looks that end any time Keith actually meets his eyes. 

Keith has decided that Shiro has until the end of the night to tell him what's on his mind voluntarily when Shiro says, abrupt, "So my parents are going to be visiting me next week."

Oh. Keith puts his fork down and folds his hands under his chin so he can give Shiro his undivided attention. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Shiro doesn't seem to be any _less_ nervous now that he's broken the news. He fiddles with the stem of his wine glass, turning it back and forth and watching the way the wine moves in the bowl. "They usually come out a few times a year and stay with me for a week or so."

"That sounds nice," Keith volunteers once it's clear that Shiro isn't going to go on. "It _is_ nice, isn't it?" He knows Shiro talks to his mom on the phone every weekend for sure, possibly more often than that, and Shiro's never said anything to make him think that he's not on good terms with his family. Of course, with Shiro, that's no guarantee of anything.

"It is," Shiro says, "it's—actually, they're overdue for a visit. I'm overdue for visiting them." He turns loose of his glass and lays his hand flat against the table; he takes a deep breath and raises his eyes. "Would you like to meet them?"

_Oh._

Shiro doesn't actually give him the chance to answer. "You don't have to if you don't want to, it's completely up to you, but they know I've been seeing someone and Mom says she'd like you to have dinner with us while they're here, if you're up for it. But you don't have to."

Keith thinks he'd probably keep going, spilling out hedges and caveats and escape routes for him until his throat ran dry, but he stops Shiro by reaching over and placing his hand on top of Shiro's. "Okay. I'd like that." 

So _like_ might be putting it a little strongly, considering the enormity of what Shiro's proposing. Keith's never been in a serious relationship before, but even he knows that meeting the boyfriend's parents is a big deal. He thinks he's allowed to be a little daunted. 

"Are you sure, though?" Shiro says. "You really _don't_ have to—"

Keith's never let being daunted stop him before. Like hell is he going to start now. "I'm sure," he says, firm, squeezing Shiro's hand for good measure. "When are they coming? What do you think is going to be the best night?"

The whole thing could end up being a disaster, Keith decides, and it'd still be worth it for the way Shiro smiles at him then, turning his hand under Keith's to clasp it. 

(It's not a disaster.)

 

 

**Six Months**

October is a hell of a month, between midterms and work and class projects and his capstone and, oh yeah, the fucking GRE and GRE Subject (argh). Keith really doesn't need anything else on top of all that and putting together grad school applications, so of course that's the perfect time to get his mail and find an envelope in it from his landlord. It's about his lease, which is due to expire in December, offering him the chance to renew it.

Oh, and if he chooses to renew, his rent will only go up seventy-five bucks a month. Keith likes that _only_ and how gracious it is, like his landlord is doing him a favor by jacking up the rent a mere twelve percent. Christ. He might as well move back into the Village for that kind of rent, especially since he spends most of his time at Shiro's anyway.

He's still annoyed about it a couple days after the fact, stretched out on Shiro's couch and working through a study guide in the most desultory fashion possible (it's Saturday, and study guides are boring, even when they're useful), and says as much to Shiro. 

Shiro clears his throat. "Or you could just cut out the middle man, you know."

Keith lowers his notebook so he can shoot a look at Shiro. Shiro, whose ears are turning progressively deeper shades of red. "Cut out the middle man how, exactly?" he asks, though he has a pretty good idea what Shiro means. 

"By moving in with me."

So, yeah, that's what he'd thought Shiro was getting at. And it's not like the thought hasn't already crossed his mind. "How hard am I gonna have to fight you to let me pay for utilities and groceries?"

"Pretty damn hard." Shiro leans forward and picks up one of Potroast's chew toys and squeaks it to get the dog's attention; he throws it and raises his voice over the scrabble of Potroast scrambling after it. "But half of the utilities, half the groceries, I wouldn't fight you over that."

Half is where he'd figured they'd settle. "I guess I'll let my landlord know that I won't be renewing my lease, then."

Shiro slumps in his chair and smiles at him. "I've been trying to figure out how to ask you when your lease was up for a while now, you know that, right?"

"I didn't, no." Shiro's smile is infectious; Keith is smiling back at him and probably couldn't stop if his life depended on it. "But I figured it wouldn't hurt to vent about that fucking letter this afternoon."

"Remind me to send whoever wrote it flowers, okay?" Shiro gets up and comes over to him; Keith lets him pluck the study materials out of his hands and settle on top of him, warm and heavy, resting his forehead against Keith's. 

Keith laces his hands together at the small of Shiro's back. "I could maybe break my lease early."

"Not worth the penalties," Shiro murmurs to him, right against his mouth, before stealing a kiss. "But you don't have to start picking up your share of utilities until the new year, if you know what I mean."

"I think I do," Keith says, right before he steals that kiss right back from Shiro.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always lovely!


End file.
